


like the showers that are british

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4042096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They have fleas," Harry explains, "so I have to give them flea baths."<br/>"Can I help?"</p><p>or where Harry names his myriad of cats after countries, the band's broken up, and Louis is the only one who still cares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like the showers that are british

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like two years ago or something. It was shitty and needed extreme editing. I tried my best. It's still pretty terrible. 
> 
> Harry has six cats. America, Armenia, Australia, China, Greece, and Haiti.
> 
> Story was inspired by this picture [here.](https://https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/9e/48/66/9e4866404f03d44fc34a2b7eda878b7f.jpg)
> 
> Title from 'Over Again' by One Direction.

Harry loves his cats, he does, but they're so _dirty_! Always getting into everything.

And now they have fleas like the dirty little mongrels they are. Harry isn't mad--he could _never_ be mad at his babies--but he is kind of irked that he has to take a shower to shower the cats.

He picks up China off the couch, and placed her in the bathroom, shutting the door.

He has this thing where he names his cats after countries in the world. He doesn't know why he does it, it's just his thing, like people closing doors a certain amount of times, or someone having a stamp collection.

It's normal, he's sure.

He'll have to gather all the cats and put them in one room before showering. There's no need for Harry to be chasing cats around the house, stark naked.

He gathers up Haiti, Australia, and Greece and places them in the bathroom after putting their food and water dishes on the counter.

He finds America laying squished between the other set of food dishes and the wall, asleep. He figures she's a metaphor for Americans; motivated by food and sleep, and he laughs, picking her up, and putting her in the bathroom with the others.

Harry, after some searching, finds the final two, Nigeria and Armenia laying under the guest bedroom. Those two are always trouble.

Harry's phone rings as he's carrying them into the bathroom, and he sighs, putting the cats on the floor to answer it. 

"Hello?" Harry said, scratching a particularly annoying flea bite on his wrist. 

He's fucking covered in them.

"Harry! I'm coming over now. I hope there's no one there...because I've just let myself in, and that would be weird." True to his word, Harry hears the front door open. 

"Why'd you even call?" Harry asks, watching Louis from the upstairs balcony. 

"Because I didn't want to drop in with no warning." He says, and then laughs.

Harry sighs, and presses his free hand to his forehead, kneading the skin.

Harry likes Louis, but sometimes he's a pain in his ass. 

"Goodbye," Harry says, and promptly hangs up.

Harry watches over the balcony as Louis gasps at the rude goodbye, and looks around the room in distress. 

"Harry fucking Styles! Where are our cats?!" Louis yells, storming up the stairs. 

"Well, I have Nigeria and Armenia right here." He picks up the two cats, and sighs. "And the other five are in the bathroom." 

"Why are they in the bathroom?" Louis frowns. 

"I was gonna give them a flea bath." Harry muses, walking towards the bathroom.

He places the two lover-cats down, and closes the door. They're happy as long as they have each other anyway. 

"Sure you were. How'd you get fleas in the first place?" Louis rolls his eyes. 

"Haiti, the little angel, got outside and brought them in after her fling with the neighbourhood cat...good thing everyone's fixed." Harry puffs out his cheeks and sighs.

He'd love to have kittens, but not at this particular moment. He's got too much going on, especially since the band's broken up.

"I don't believe you have fleas." Louis says, looking at Harry, scrutinizing. 

"I do! Here, look! It's a flea bite!" Harry holds out his arm to show Louis.

And there, on his wrist, is a flea bite. 

"Well, whatever. You have fleas. Can I help?" Louis smiles. 

"Um, when I bathe them, I shower with them..." Harry awkwardly rubs his shoulder.

Louis and Harry have been in more compromising situations than a shower. After all, they had slept in the same bed. And Harry had had no underwear on. 

"That's alright, mate. We've done worse." Louis bumps his hip into Harry's as he walks past.

Harry turns around and watches the boy open the door, making mewing noises. 

"Let me in, babes! I'm not your owner!" Louis coos, ushering himself inside.

Harry sighs in adoration at the boy and soon follows suit.

Once inside, the cats meow at Louis, who's holding his favourite, Greece, and scratch at his legs. 

"What can I say? They love me." Louis grins, and Harry's knees feel a little weak. 

"They do." Harry acknowledges, and takes of his shirt. 

"W-what are you doing?" Louis asks, eyes wide.

"If I were to wear my clothes in the shower, I'd be an idiot."

"You already are," Louis says, grinning, and begins to shed his clothes as well.

When they're left in only their boxers, they sigh. 

"Armenia and Nigeria first? They're the easiest to bathe." Harry leans against the door, looking at the sea of fur near his feet.

God bless his shower drain. All that cat fur...

"Let's do the most difficult first. Get him out of the way." Louis glances at the cat in his arms. Greece. 

"God, he's the worst." Harry sighs, remembering the claw marks down his legs from last time. 

"Well, he loves me. Maybe he won't flip shit." Louis shrugs, pulling out his phone.

He presses play on the music before connecting it to the speaker Harry keeps in the bathroom (He liked to listen to music while he showered).

"Awesome. Let's rock and roll, Greasy." And then ducks into the shower.

The minute Greece is walked into the enclosed glass of the shower, he starts to panic. The fur on his back rises up, and he hisses at Harry, even though the water isn't even on yet. 

"Ow, Greece! Cut that out!" Louis yelps, as Greece digs his nails into his bare chest. 

"I told you he was bad." Harry says, turning on the water. "Put him down...It'll be easier." 

Louis lets Greece jump from his grasp and onto the floor. 

Harry can't help but look at Louis' chest, soft with muscle, with very visible cat scratches. He'll never get used to looking at Louis. Never.

"You're bleeding." Harry takes a step towards Louis, hand reached out to touch him. 

"I'm okay." Louis whispers, voice soft. 

Harry steps into the direct spray of the water, brushing his fingers against the cuts on his chest. 

  
_God_ , Louis' skin is so soft, and so warm. Harry can't believe someone as perfect as Louis exists.

"I'm okay, Harry." Louis whispers, voice lower than Harry'd ever heard it. 

"Yeah, you are. You're perfect." Harry whispers, and then looks up into Louis eyes, hand flat on his chest. He slides his hand around to Louis' back, smiling softly. 

"Haz, I think you mean you. You're perfect. I'm just...Louis." Louis says, glancing away. 

Damn, he's so adorable that Harry just wants to kiss away the frown on his lips.

"No, you're perfect, Lou. Your eyes, your height, your voice. You are." Harry sighs, his hand on Louis' waist. 

Harry's had this thing for Louis for a while, since way before the band broke up, but hasn't actually said anything because how weird would that be? All his friends decide they hate each other, and leave, and then Harry would say, "I'm in love with you Louis." and Louis would say, "Ew, no." and leave, too. 

Harry can't have that. 

He needs Louis to be around.

"Well, if I'm perfect--which I'm _not--_ then you're a God, like Aphrodite." Louis smiles softly. 

"Really? No, Lou. You're perfect, okay?" Harry steps closer, out of the direct spray of water. 

He places his other hand on Louis' waist, stepping closer again. _God_ , Harry loves the feeling of Louis' skin under his fingers. So soft, and so warm...

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" Louis asks, grinning. 

"No, I'm not." And Harry pushes Louis against the cold tile of his shower wall and kisses him. 

Kisses him like he's never kissed anyone in his entire life before. 

Louis groans into Harry's mouth and tangles his fingers in Harry's hair. _God_ , Louis' lips are so soft, and so warm that Harry almost dies. 

Almost. 

Louis opens his mouth and Harry kisses him harder, taking his chance because _why not_?

They kiss harder longer and closer than Harry's ever kissed anyone ever until Harry breaks it up. He leans his forehead against Louis', breathing hard. 

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." Harry sighs, rubbing his nose against Louis'. 

"Why didn't you?" Louis whispers. 

"I was...afraid. That you didn't, like, feel the same way, because, yeah." Harry glances away, awkwardly, stifling a chuckle at Greece, who's clawing at the glass door, meowing. 

"I was too. I mean, you're a God, Harry. Aphrodite would be proud to call you her son, and I'm...me. Though being me is pretty wicked." Louis laughs, and Harry presses his lips to his again. 

"You're fucking beautiful." Harry smiles, lips against Louis' lips. "Alright?" 

"Alright." Louis muses, sort of laughing. 

Harry doesn't know why, but he starts laughing too. Maybe it's the relief that Louis likes him back, or maybe it's because Greece looks like a soaked rat, he isn't sure. 

"We came in here to bathe the cats, and we haven't touched him since he scratched me." Louis laughs, grinning. 

Good _Lord_ , Harry loves his smile. His smile could make anyone happy, even the saddest person on earth.

"Louis, I want to make something clear..." Harry grabs the flea shampoo and pours it on Greece's wet fur. He yelps and hisses at Harry, who's massaging the soap through his fur. "I don't just like care for you...It's more than that." Harry stands up, watching as Greece scurries back to the glass, and Harry grabs the shower-head. 

He rinses Greece down, watching dirt and tons of fur float towards the drain as Greece hisses, claws out, mouth open.

He's practically a lion.

"I love you, alright? I've loved you for a long, long time. Since before the band ended." Harry sighs, and deems Greece clean enough. "I tried ignoring it...but obviously it didn't work."

Harry grabs the towel off the rack, and scoops Greece into his arms. He hisses, and lashes out with his claws, slicing at Harry's inner wrist. 

Blood rises to the surface, but Harry wipes it off and he places Greece outside the shower. 

Louis hasn't said anything yet, and Harry's kind of freaking out. Harry just admitted his love for his best-friend, and he hasn't said anything at all.

Harry's a fucking idiot.

"I ruined it all, I know. But whatever...Come here, America." 

America's a beautiful cat, completely white, but so, so, _so_ chubby. She may seem lazy, but she's a complete menace.

The second-worst to bathe. 

Harry places her inside the shower, out of the range of the water, and lays her down. She purs for a moment against Harry's chest, before curling into a ball on the tile floor. 

Harry loves her and her laziness. She's the epitome of America. 

Louis still hasn't spoken when Harry finishes washing (and getting scratched by) America. 

Harry sighs, feeling awkward as he dries her off and grabs China. 

Harry risks a peek at Louis, cringing at the empty look in his eyes. It used to happen a lot, when the band was together.

Louis would get lost in his mind, and someone (mostly Harry) would pull him out of it. It usually happened right after concerts, or visits with his family. He never explained them, so Harry's still clueless as to what they mean.

He sighs, shaking his head, and bathes China. 

She's pretty, too. Black with brindle spots. But Armenia, he would always be Harry's favourite. 

He finishes scrubbing China with shampoo and glances down at his chest.

Only three cats in, and Harry's arms and torso already looked like he'd narrowly escaped a confrontation with a serial killer. Fucking hell.

He puts China out, and grabs Haiti (a golden cat with green eyes) and bathes her. 

Thank God he's reaching the end of the cats already. Jesus, he's exhausted. 

He scrubs Haiti's fur out, watching it swirl down the drain, and dries her off. 

Hary loves his cats, honest, but they're a pain in his ass as much as Louis is.

He scoops up Australia, petting her underneath her chin. She purs in response, and then Harry ducks her under the water. 

She's pretty calm, so he holds her as he bathes her. Her beautiful long black hair smushes against her body and Harry laughs when he realizes that she looks like a rat. But Harry also thinks it's adorable.

His cats are the fucking cutest.

He grins at her, dancing to the ending beats of _Beekeeper's Daughter_ by _The All-American Rejects_ on Louis' phone. 

The song shifts, and (surprise, surprise) _No Control_ starts playing. Harry feels saddened by it because it's Louis' song. No one else's besides Louis'. The other boys had just been his back-up.

Harry sadly washes up Australia, and dries her, grabbing the couple-of-the-year, Armenia and Nigeria. 

Armenia has short, black fur, but his eyes are what make him spectacular. One's green, like Harry's, and the other, well, Harry thinks it kind of looks like Louis'. Nigeria is brown, with one big white spot on her belly and gorgeous golden eyes.

He bathes them easily, listening to the contented purrs coming from Nigeria as he scrubs her fur. 

Those cats ere Harry's life, he decides, Every one of them.

He loves them more than anything.

When Harry's finished, he watches Louis for a second. 

He hopes his admittance won't ruin their friendship, but there's a slim chance it might, so he just looks. 

Looks at his eyes, and his nose, and his arms, and his hair, and his short legs. He's perfect, Harry knows. So _perfect_. 

"Lou?" Harry says, cupping his face in his hands. "Louis? Snap out of it. Come back." Harry smiles, shaking Louis' head lightly. 

Louis lifts his head, locking his eyes with Harry's and pushes him against the other wall. He kisses him softly, all smooth lips and soft grasp of his hands. K

He kisses him until he needs air and then kisses him more after that. Harry can't breathe, but he will _not_ be the first to pull away.

He did it before, but he won't. not ever again.

He breathes through his nose, nearly sobbing in relief that _yes, Louis doesn't hate me._  

"I love you, too. For the record." He says, and then kisses Harry again. 

Harry nearly forgets he's in a shower, bleeding from open wounds everywhere, smelling like wet cat and flea shampoo. He nearly does. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are endlessly appreciated! xx


End file.
